


losing face

by harikurono



Series: your sister was right [2]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Normal Life, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Good Older Sibling Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Hurt/Comfort, Intrusive Thoughts, Sad Wilbur Soot, Twins Wilbur Soot & Technoblade, Underage Drinking, Wilbur Soot Needs a Hug, sbi + tubbo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-18
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-03-16 03:00:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28824099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/harikurono/pseuds/harikurono
Summary: you know the way i can betonight, i’m fucking drunkso it's all gonna be about me
Relationships: Wilbur Soot & Phil Watson, Wilbur Soot & Technoblade, Wilbur Soot & Technoblade & Phil Watson
Series: your sister was right [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2113356
Comments: 20
Kudos: 153





	losing face

**Author's Note:**

> part 2 of the “your sister was right” series, can be read standalone, but i’d suggest reading the fic before this first for some more context.
> 
> title and summary from the song “losing face” by wilbur. if you feel like you’re emotionally well enough to listen to it, i suggest you do while reading this fic. i listened to it for a few hours straight writing the first half of this.
> 
> i wasn’t expecting to continue this series on such a dark angsty note, but i was going through some stuff and am currently in a really bad place so it started as a vent fic for the first half that i wrote at 2 in the morning and spiralled into angst that i finished at 1am the next day.
> 
> this gives a little more backstory on techno and wilbur, and i hope it builds their characters a bit! unbeta’d and im very tired and this is once again a vent fic so don’t trash me for this not being up to my usual standard.
> 
> cw: alcohol, drunk character, referenced abuse, mentions of the foster care system, briefly referenced addiction, underage drinking, mention of intrusive thoughts
> 
> stay safe <3

Wilbur was infamously known for not knowing how to cope with his emotions healthily. Sure, he was in therapy, he finally had a place to call home, and most of all, he had a loving family who were always there for him, but he was a simple man who gave into his impulses.

He wasn’t even a man, he was still just a boy, actually. At only 17 years old, here he was, drinking alone in his room after a particularly bad day. He’d lost control a long time ago, and he’d come to terms with and accepted that by now. Everyday he cared less and less about how fucked up and unhealthy his coping mechanisms were.

He couldn’t stop thinking about where it had all gone wrong.

It didn’t help that he’d been taken away from his parents when he was only a few years old. His parents… Well, they weren’t the worst “parents” he’d had, but they were still pretty damn bad. Being tossed around the system was a painful experience and he’d picked up a multitude of traumas along the way, having seen far too much, experiencing way too much for someone so young.

He knew his twin had been just as affected as he had. They’d been practically attached by the hip since they were just babies who knew no better; they’d gone through it all together. Maybe he should think about him too, but fuck it, tonight he’s drunk and he’s going to make everything in his internal monologue about himself.

Yes, therapy was helping him get better. Yes, he was thankful to finally have a family that loved him and cared for him to the point where they brought him to therapy. And yes, he was so incredibly grateful that he had a family who aren't violent, and are instead gentle, so gentle, more gentle than he thinks he deserves. But god, he’s so drunk, and his vision is swimming, and all he can think about is how fucking terrible he feels. How it feels like his world is collapsing around him with every breath he takes.

It wasn’t even night yet, in fact, they’d all been eating dinner not even an hour ago, and yet here he was, a wreck on the floor of his bedroom, a nearly empty bottle of vodka at his side. Phil would be so disappointed. He didn’t know of his habit- he was pretty good at hiding the drinks, pretty good at sneaking out and not being caught, but his stupid impulses, the thoughts of just drinking himself til he couldn’t think anymore, they were just too strong and he had to give into them now. He’d usually do this when he knew he was alone, because that way nobody would know and he could hide his hangover convincingly enough in the morning, but something in him just  _ broke  _ today.

His brothers would be ashamed to see the wreckage he’d become. It was clear the four of them had their mental health struggles, they’d all been tossed around the same broken system after all, but Wilbur had gotten especially good at hiding things. It was something he was supposed to be working on with his therapist, actually, but he had been conditioned into hiding his pain for so long that it was a long process to unpick. He was the quiet one, after all. Techno was the one who was once deemed the problem child, the violent one, Tommy was the loud one, and Tubbo was… Tubbo. It depended on who Tubbo was around, but Wilbur knew his true personality was that he was simply a total sweetheart.

His heart ached at the realisation that he was hurting his family. 

He didn’t know when he’d started crying, and he didn’t realise he was until he was sobbing from deep in his chest, reaching with shaky hands to drink the last of the bottle of vodka he had. He knew he was being loud now, but he was too drunk to care anymore, continuing to sob heavily, desperate to just be  _ normal _ , to not have all this trauma and to not be as fucked up as he was. He couldn’t even tell the time anymore. He had no idea how long it had been, and he didn’t care to check, that being the last thought on his mind right now.

He didn’t even realise his door had opened, unable to hear anything over his own sobs that were wracking his frail frame, and didn’t process that another person was there with him until he was pulled into the lap of someone familiar, a pair of comforting arms wrapped around him, accompanied by soft reassurances being mumbled into his ear. That was enough to bring him back to reality for now, shocking him enough to stop sobbing for a moment to realise that it was Phil who was holding him, before he immediately broke down in hysterics all over again.

“It’s okay, Wil, you’re okay, I’m right here,” Phil mumbled softly, rubbing his hand over the back of his shaking son. Seeing his beloved son in the state he was in, he couldn’t bring himself to even be the slightest bit angry or disappointed that he’d been drinking; instead of any of that, he was worried out of his mind for what could’ve possibly driven him into such a state.

Wilbur, however, didn’t seem to get the message, choking out between heavy sobs, “D-Don’t throw me out, ‘m sorry, ‘m sorry Phil, please-“ He sounded desperate, and it shattered Phil’s heart into a million pieces.

“Hey, hey, come on, I’m not going anywhere, kiddo. I’m right here. I’m not angry… You’re safe, I’ve got you,” he started off small, clarifying his feelings and holding the shaking body of his son closer.

“Follow my breathing, okay?” He got Wilbur to look at him, and his heart shattered all over again seeing how delirious and broken the teen looked. However, for the time being, he pushed his own feelings aside, and got him to follow his breathing, until eventually the sobs subsided and the brunette could breathe more evenly again. Tears still occasionally slipped down his cheeks, but it was nothing like the hysterics he was in prior.

“What’s wrong, Wil?” Phil kept his voice soft, not wanting to risk overwhelming Wilbur in his drunken, vulnerable state.

Wilbur desperately wanted to respond, spill his guts to his father, but everytime he went to open his mouth no words came out, only quiet whimpers of distress. Thankfully, the older man seemed to catch on and understand completely, pulling him a little closer.

“Let’s get you some water and get you to bed, alright?” Wilbur could do nothing but nod in response to that, desperate for some sleep and for his hangover to not be as horrific as it could be without water in the morning. Phil picked him up carefully, setting him down on his bed and gesturing that he’d just be a minute, but as he turned to walk out of the room he could feel his sleeve being tugged on, looking back to see a teary eyed Wilbur again.

He knew he couldn’t leave his son alone right now, so he gave him a small smile, turning to him, “can I at least go get one of your brothers to bring you some water, Wil?” He got a nod in response, and he smiled more, squeezing the younger’s hand before quickly going to find Techno, not wanting Tommy or Tubbo to find out about this just yet, or at all.

Techno was of course in his room as usual, sitting at his desk doing homework of some sort. Phil knocked on his door gently, but it was clear he was a little bit frantic, and thankfully, Techno looked up and pulled his headphones off, tilting his head in confusion.

“Could you grab a glass of water and some painkillers for Wil?” He tried to stay rational and calm, but it was hard when he was so worried about him.

Techno seemed incredibly confused, definitely wanting an explanation, but nonetheless he nodded without questioning it, letting Phil get back to Wilbur as he went to go grab what was needed. He was anxious from worry about his twin and what could possibly be wrong, so he tried to be quick.

Phil got back to his room as soon as he could, sitting back on the bed and pulling Wilbur into his lap again, running his hand through his slightly messy hair slowly. Wilbur melted into the touch, and a pang of guilt hit Phil, reminding him to be more affectionate with him from now on.

“I’m here, I’ve got you,” he mumbled softly, along with many other reassurances. Slowly but surely, Wilbur started to relax in his arms, and conveniently, Techno came in with the water and painkillers. He set them down on the table beside the bed, and just from a brief glance around the room he noticed the empty bottle of vodka and immediately understood what was happening here, frowning. He knew Wilbur better than anyone, even better than Phil and probably even Wilbur himself, so he understood entirely just from that one clue.

His twin had a bit of a habit of doing this when they were younger, when they were still stuck in the foster care system. When things got too much, he’d sneak alcohol from their foster parents at the time, or he’d steal it from the local shop, somehow never getting caught. It wasn’t bad enough of a habit that he was addicted, exactly, but it was something he resorted to when things got bad enough that he needed to be out of his head for a few hours. He knew of Wilbur’s intrusive thoughts, the ones that gave him vivid imagery of death and hurting himself and drinking himself half to death or getting so high he couldn’t remember his name- he knew of all of them. He’d been there for many of his episodes, just as Wilbur had been there for many of Techno’s own particularly bad episodes with the voices. He knew him, just as well as he knew  _ him _ . So ultimately, he understood the reason why he’d gotten himself into such a state. 

_ “Wil?” Techno’s voice called, softer than it usually was - a little rough from all the shouting he did recently when he’d gotten angry. He knew it wouldn’t be long until the two of them got thrown back into the group home again, so he’d gone to find where his younger twin had run off to after the violence had started. Despite only being 2 minutes older than his twin, Techno was always the one to take the beatings from the foster parents, feeling a deep instinct to protect Wilbur, being the oldest of the two. _

_ He only found him when he heard a hiccup coming from a cupboard in their cramped room upstairs, opening the cupboard in such a rush he didn’t realise he’d scared him. Wilbur quickly put his hands in front of his face, somehow curling into himself anymore, a bottle of alcohol in his hand - clearly drunk. _

_ They were only 13. Too young. Too young to be experiencing such abuse, to be getting drunk, far too young to even be considering getting drunk to escape reality in the first place. _

_ Techno had apologised profusely for giving him such a fright, and proceeded to hold Wilbur the whole night until they’d gotten booted back to the group home. _

_ He never once let go of his hand. _

He really didn’t want to leave Wilbur alone. As much as he despised physical touch, he wanted to hug his sibling and give him silent comfort by embracing him gently, just like he did when they were younger. He sat down beside where he and Phil were, hesitating a bit at first, before moving his hand to grab Wilbur’s own carefully, waiting until he’d calmed down from the momentary panic of another person’s touch before taking his hand between both his own, squeezing it lightly.

Wilbur seemed to get the message that Techno was trying to convey, and the pinkette was incredibly thankful for that fact, not being able to verbalise his feelings- he’d never been able to do that. Thankfully, he seemed to be sleepy now, relaxing further into Phil’s embrace, falling into the soothing words of encouragement and reassurance. The alcohol helped in this instance, and soon enough, he found himself falling asleep within the arms of his father, his twin still holding his hand gently.

Once Phil noticed Wilbur had fallen asleep, he smiled a bit, turning to face Techno- and then his smile dropped immediately. He’d never seen Techno look so distraught, he’d barely seen him cry- and here he was right now, tears streaming down his face silently as he stared at the naturally cold hand of his brother. It was an understatement to say Phil was worried.

“Techno?” he said softly, trying to keep his voice down to not wake Wilbur up, but also to not freak Techno out at all. Techno could do nothing but offer a shaky hum in response, and his father knew he was listening from that cue.

“Do you want to talk?”

There were a few moments of silence, before Techno started out quietly, “he… he used to do this, when we were young. Drink, I mean. Not- Not an addiction or anything, just, when things got too much… Intrusive thoughts n’ stuff.”

Phil caught on to what he meant - he meant the abuse they’d both endured too. Techno was never open about any of the abuse. That was still a topic that crossed too many lines for him, even the mere thought of it sometimes was too much for him, making him break down into horrific panic attacks. That was a trigger to unpack at a later point in his recovery. His father understood wholeheartedly.

“I see… So you think that’s why he did this today?” A nod in response. “I see… I promise Wil’s gonna be okay, Tech. I’ll make sure he knows he’s got all of us in his corner when he wakes up. Gotta make sure he isn’t hiding anymore alcohol too…”

Despite the comfort, this was still a lot for Techno to process. He hated seeing Wilbur so distraught, just as much as Wilbur hated seeing Techno so upset- as cliche as it was, they were each other’s platonic other half, even though they wouldn’t admit it. Techno couldn’t even remember a time where they were apart for more than a few days, and those times were only for things such as school trips. He didn’t want to leave his side, and clearly, his expression showed that, because Phil moved to outstretch his arm with a kind look on his face, and Techno couldn’t resist burying himself in his father’s side, feeling safer now he was with him and Wilbur.

Phil spoke softly for a while to fill the silence, and at some point Tommy and Tubbo had come in too - Techno wasn’t really sure when, head feeling hazy and feeling as if he was out of his body for a long while - but after an explanation they’d gone to bed. Soon enough, Techno found himself dozing off too, feeling safe, despite how he didn’t really feel like himself. 

Phil had noticed that Techno wasn’t entirely there since he’d offered him to join the cuddle, but seeing his sleeping face, finally at peace, calmed his nerves a little bit. He’d have to bring up the issue with Techno’s therapist, just as much as he should do the same for Wilbur, but for now, he could settle for dozing off with his eldest son’s in his arms.

Techno never let go of Wilbur’s hand the whole night.

**Author's Note:**

> fun fact, at the time of posting this (2am january 18th), it is my birthday! thought id provide you all with some angst and sweet, sweet hurt/comfort on my birthday.
> 
> as always, kudos and comments mean the world to me, whether they’re a heart as extra kudos or a long rambly comment! they make my day and genuinely make me happy cry.
> 
> and please, if you have any suggestions for things i could write for this au, please comment them! i cant promise i’ll write them, because i tend to write sparsely and only when something really inspires me, but any suggestions are appreciated :D


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